


deliver us from evil

by kiira



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: (basically faith's mom it's not too graphic), Gen, abuse cw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-18
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-19 19:47:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1481788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiira/pseuds/kiira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>and she had never felt so holy</p>
            </blockquote>





	deliver us from evil

 

It was her grandmother who first took her to church. She was only six, and the choir and the stained glass windows made her breath catch and her eyes widen. It felt like she had entered a fairy land, or maybe a castle like the ones her teachers read about in school. 

Whatever this beautiful place was, Faith felt safe. 

Even after her grandmother died, and Faith was back to living with her mother, she would wake up early on Sunday mornings, dress in a faded blue sundress and sneak to the church that was closest to her mother's house. This one wasn't as grand, no stained glass windows, and the choir was made up of a couple of older women and one teenage boy. 

But it was home. 

The priest gave her the biggest smile every time she left, and the woman she sat next to every week who would whisper the page numbers of the hymns that they were singing. A teenage girl who never told Faith her name, but gave her a slip of paper with a telephone number on it, to call "if she ever needed help" and an old man who gave her a little golden cross. He said that it was going to be for his granddaughter, but he thought Faith would like it more. 

She wore it under her t-shirt every day so her mother wouldn't see. 

And at night, after her mother had gone out, Faith would lie in bed and whisper prayers, her fingers rubbing the cross as she asked Jesus to bless her friends, watch after her grandmother and save her mother. 

When she was eight, the priest asked her if she would like to take First Communion with the two other children her age. He said that usually parents had to give permission, but he would make an exception in her case.

(She didn't notice the sad look in his eyes when she eagerly nodded.) And when she swallowed her sip of wine, she had never felt so holy. 

But when she was thirteen, her whole world crashed down around her. 

She had started fighting more with her mother, arguments about what Faith was doing and why should she still be in school? (Faith screamed back through her tears that she was  _thirteen._ But her mother ignored her.) 

The more fights they had, the earlier her mom went out to the bar and the later she stayed out. It was 4am and even as Faith heard the door slam shut and got up to stand at the top of the stairs, she knew she should stay in bed, knew she should roll over, fall asleep and count down the days until she was eighteen. Her mother stumbled upstairs and almost slammed into Faith, but blinked stupidly at her and mumbled out a couple words that could be interpreted as a question. 

Faith didn't care what her mother had to say, didn't care what the excuse was this time, didn't care about anything. So when she opened her mouth to yell something about her mother not being a mother anymore, it came out angrier than it sounded in her head. Still, she didn't expect the hand that hit her, hard across the face. Faith could taste her own blood. And she didn't expect the second hit or the third or anything. She had blood in her mouth and her head hurt and she prayed. 

Staring at her face in the mirror, trying to clean the blood up with a rag, she prayed. And curled up in bed, she prayed around her tears. 

She skipped school the next day, knowing that if she showed up with the bruise staining her cheek, she would be taken away to somewhere worse. All day, she whispered prayers under her breath, hoping that her mother would come home and suddenly be a TV mom, one who fussed over her and made her cookies after school. 

But all she got was another bruise, this one on her ribs. It was the last time Faith prayed. 

* * *

 

She was fifteen, and people crossed the street when they saw her coming. Her blue sundress had been replaced with tight leather pants and a leather jacket, smudged eyeliner and lipstick that never really came off all the way. No one would recognize her as little Faith who prayed with her eyes open and her hands clasped tightly around a little golden cross. 

She had passed the priest the other week, and a friendly greeting almost forced its way out of her mouth. But he just glanced at her, put his head down and walked a little faster. 

Faith cried herself to sleep that night. 

* * *

 

On her sixteenth birthday, she dropped out of high school, ignoring her thirteen year old self who had written out plans to go to college. College was for girls who deserved it, and Faith hadn't deserved anything since she was eight. 

She found herself in a bar, and flirted with the bartender until he gave her a drink. And another and another and another, until she was throwing up in the women's bathroom, wondering if this is where her mother was at sixteen. 

Wiping her mouth on the back of her hand, she realized she didn't care. 

* * *

 

It was November 12 and she didn't know it, but she would wake up that morning a girl, and fall asleep a warrior. The change didn't even feel like much, only a shock of energy that vibrated through her whole body, nothing to even take much note of. At least not until some creeps had followed her home from the bar and she had beat them up in a back alley. Except instead of just roughing them up a little, she knocked at least two of them out. 

Two days later, a women knocked on her front door and introduced herself as Diana, and very carefully explained to Faith that she was now special, something called a Slayer. 

After nearly a month of training, Diana handed Faith a small box with a cross inside. To protect her from vampires, Diana explained. Silently, Faith unclasped her gold cross from around her neck and slid the wooden one next to it. 

Diana didn't say anything. 

(When Faith stood above Diana's shredded body, she couldn't even cry. She was too empty. With one last glance, Faith turned on her heel and walked away, her crosses placed gently where Diana's heart should have been.)


End file.
